


Visibility

by gentlesquid_andink



Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Hannamir, If You Squint - Freeform, Pre-Relationship, fix it for underwritten characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlesquid_andink/pseuds/gentlesquid_andink
Summary: Hannah is pretty sure there's more to Amir than the unassuming politeness before her. She pushes for the real him, then lets him sleep it off on her couch. Because this maybe might have been her at one point, too.





	1. Chapter 1

“I think you should be in there.” With a nod, Deputy Director Campbell indicated the room where Agent Amir al Raisani was being debriefed after his first deployment with the DIA. Debriefings had been a bit disorganized this time, allowing for Preach to have his team around him until he improved enough to be moved closer to home. 

“Okay,” Hannah agreed, letting a fair amount of ambivalence color the willingness of the word. “Can I ask, what would you like me to get out of him?”

Deputy Director Campbell leaned back against a table. Feigned ease, with loose shoulders and arms out. Her hands on the table betrayed tight fingers, though, and Hannah noted them. Her boss replied, “You’ve met him. In the field.”

Because spies were susceptible to manipulation by friendly forces? Because Amir al Raisani was honest friends with anyone?

“Yes. Everybody but Jaz.”

“Including Amir.”

“Including Amir.” Hannah confirmed. The non-answer from her boss meant she would have to decide whether to press further. She took in the way the Deputy Director was holding her arms to the side, standing between Hannah and the conference room where Amir was being debriefed. She was waiting for Hannah to challenge her; based on her body language, she was most likely willing to indulge her. Hannah resented that combination.

There was a pair of flats in a drawer kept here for late night ops and a tube of lipstick in her purse several shades brighter than her daily neutral. A few simple changes aimed at disarming the newest Omega. Maybe she could catch a few tells. 

When Hannah was finished, she looked up at the Deputy Director. Her boss was smirking half in appreciation and half in amusement. Hannah wasn’t sure if she was responding to her wardrobe adjustments or at her decision to skip any further questioning. Why bother? If Patricia wanted her to get at something specifically, she could ask; otherwise, she would get what she got.

(Training a new handler was time-consuming. But Hannah could be patient. And this team was different; she wanted to stay). 

Hannah grabbed a fresh pad of paper and a pen and followed the Deputy Director to the one-sided mirror to observe him a moment. Amir sat quietly, though not particularly still. Certainly not like when she had spied Jaz being debriefed earlier in the week, the way she stilled from the inside and waited you out. Or like Dalton when he was angry at the possible implications of a line of questioning about his guys. Amir’s quiet involved a watchfulness overlaid with a sort of studied dance. It was like he was acting as he thought a random civilian would if they had nothing to worry them. It was fascinating.

The whole thing reminded her of their initial meeting. He had _seen_ her, she knew he did. Had watched it focus his eyes on her for a moment, felt it down her spine and in her fingertips. And then he fell back into jokes and competitive banter with Joseph, putting the fake flirting into sharp relief. Hannah was good, but if she had seen it, then Patricia had, as well. 

She wanted to see it again. Maybe the Deputy Director knew about that, too.

><><

Hannah moved efficiently as she entered the room, making her way over to the chair opposite Amir quickly. She sat down and felt herself slipping into that headspace where every detail - sensed, perceived, intuited - flowed through some separate part of her mind to be considered and connected. For instance, the table was cool beneath the bare skin of her wrists, the temperature in the room was not low enough to make her wish for a cardigan; Amir’s forehead had no sheen of sweat. The temperature was suited to Amir’s comfort, not hers.

That was okay. She worked better when she was being thrown off her game, even by something as subtle as the office environment. _Or as stubborn as an invisible man,_ she thought.

><><

Amir was surprised they had sent Hannah in to continue the debrief. She was new, she didn’t have the big picture. More importantly, she was a reactor, someone who responded to whatever stimuli were presented. Made sense of what was put before her. Those were the instincts that kept her alive in the field and Amir knew, they never went away. Killing them required a slow death of one’s inescapable self.

She nodded to the techs operating the recording devices and began. “Continuing Debriefing 7-Omega-Delta-101. Agent Amir al Raisani.” Her voice sounded just like it did over comms: smooth, focused. Following the script. Amir could work with that. 

“Let’s pick up somewhere easy. The assist in Sophia.” Hannah tried to look equal parts directive and open, curious to hear how Amir would respond without a specific question. 

He held the momentary silence between them before offering a benign, “That went well.”

“It did. All objectives were met. No injuries, no loss of intel.” 

The blandness of Amir’s response didn’t give her a direction. He was waiting for her to give him some clue, some way of moving forward. 

She didn’t need to give him one. What Hannah needed was to see how Amir made sense of things. What moved him to certain decisions, why he responded the way he did. Not how he _thought_ he should, but how he was when he was really true. 

She raised one slim, arched eyebrow. 

Amir wasn’t sure whether he was more amused or frustrated with Ms. Rivera’s approach. Neither one was very useful right now, so he swallowed both and chose a path forward. “Are you asking why it went well?” 

“I’m asking what you did to contribute.”

Well. That one landed. 

Amir regrouped by skewing official. “I was initially tasked with -”

“No,” Hannah interrupted. “Not your assignment.” Hannah shifted on her seat, sat back. New tactic. She let her shoulder relax, her torso tilt. She glanced around the room. “If the mission went well, it’s because everyone worked together. Everyone contributed. What did you do to help out?” When she cut her eyes at the intelligence officer across from her, it was to drive that point home. Amir may have grown up in luxury, but he had turned his life into one of service. Calling that into question might force a little honesty.

Dark eyes stared back, but they were still light. Too settled. 

Hannah decided to sharpen her question a bit. “How did you push Joseph?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Sargeant McGuire.” Hannah flipped through the notes in front of her. “Says here he was originally planning to convince a woman, Aneta, to allow you access to the database. But it was a breach from a soldier’s laptop that got you through.”

Amir sat forward. “Yes.”

The sheets of paper rustled again, more prop than crutch. “Dalton did not ask him to change tactics. He gave him free reign to get it done.”

“That sounds likely. We enjoy a certain latitude with this CO.”

“Mmm, latitude.” Hannah liked Joseph, she did. But he wasn’t one to seek a different path unless the one he was put on wasn’t working. “Sargent McGuire does problem-solve in some fairly creative ways. And I’ve seen Dalton allow members of your team to change gears when needed pretty routinely.”

Hannah took a deep breath. There was no reason this particular gap in their debrief needed clarifying. Whatever had happened, it worked; there were no repercussions for the field. Something in the back of her mind was stuck on it, though. 

“Was this needed, Agent?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow…?”

Unimpressed, Hannah decided Amir hadn’t seen her clearly enough. Or perhaps he had misjudged how carefully her own boss followed the rules of bureaucracy and latitude. 

“See, the thing is - I have half a dozen situations like that one here. All incidents where there was a shift in the action that is unaccounted for preceding a successful outcome. And those are just the ones that were readily apparent to whichever agent-in-training compiled my debriefing data.”

Oh. Oh that got under his skin. Afraid he was losing his game, was he?

“If _I_ go through the data, I’m going to find more like these, I bet. Moments where I think you might have spoken up. Quietly. Unassumingly. Yet you’re evading a clear description of your actions when there is no consequences for admitting them. So let me rephrase: When are you going to start stepping up?”

“Ms. Rivera. I am an Intelligence Officer with a team I left home to serve. I risk my life for them - and for you. I’ve stepped up.”

“How about right now?” The tilt of her chin, the challenge in her eyes - they were designed to instigate a reaction. Amir reminded himself he had withstood far more effective means of persuasion. Refocus, deflect, move on.

“My apologies, ma’am. What is it you were trying to understand, again?”

Hannah was so over the false deference and veneer of polite compliance. “You know what I think? I think you have been hedging your bets. Staying in character in case this doesn’t pan out.” No movement, but those almond eyes were vibrant again.

“Hoping you might need to head back to a solo career, perhaps. Back to where things are easy and automatic, with the clarity of black and white morality on your side.”

“Easy.” Turns out Amir al Raisani was quiet when he was disturbed. “You think that life was easy?”

“I think you’re hiding rather than helping your team see what it needs to see. Making suggestions instead of setting the agenda for intelligence on the ground.”

“That is not my job!”

“Here for a job, are you? I thought you said you were here to serve?”

Both hands on the desk, as if to hold up his body. Amir was finally looking at her, not the cover, not the intelligence officer. 

“You have a gift, Amir! You take one look at a person, on a good day, and you know what they are capable of - where their limits are. What will motivate them. What will shut them down.”

More quickly then. “Why aren’t you using that power to help Dalton see the possibilities? Lead your team?”

Amir shrugged, more than a bit defeated, entirely honest still. “I’m their Invisible Man.”

“I don’t believe that. I think if you don’t start showing up all the time, and not just when you see a convenient and efficient tweak, your guys are going to start slipping up.”

The implication that he might cause his teammates’ deaths was farther than she’d intended to go. Hannah gathered the paper before her, stood, and left Amir in the cold room behind her.

><><

Deputy Director Campbell was waiting for her in front of the screen, Amir still displayed larger than life. She looked pleased. “That was good.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Noah leaned in her direction from his station. “Turns out, you’re a bit scary.” She rolled her eyes and tossed a _seriously?_ look across the aisle. “I kinda like it.” Hannah looked down and suppressed her smile. 

><><

Hannah shouldn’t have been surprised by the knock on her door that night, 11 pm or not. The stillness of the man on the other side of her peephole was not a simulation; Amir’s static presence seemed centered in his belly. Hannah undid the locks.

When she opened the door, Amir stepped backwards before he caught himself. “I’m sorry, Ms. Rivera. It’s late.” She thought about how he had figured out where she lives, whether Noah or Patricia or someone else at the DIA helped him. The man in front of her was not projecting the kind of polite charm that would have required. Not unless Patricia had thought it for the best. Or maybe Dalton.

She relented, opening the door wider. Amir repeated, “It’s late.” It was like he knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, but came anyway. She wondered why that was. 

“Well then let’s not wake the neighbors.” 

He followed her inside.

><><

Just inside the door, he stopped. “I don’t...quite know what I’m doing here.” Even from the kitchen where she was pouring a second mug of tea, that caught Hannah’s attention. “I didn’t realize I had broken you, with just the one day of debriefing, too.” The embarrassment flooded his face, but so did something feisty. Good.

“I’m not broken. I just - that was the most...me...I’ve been in a while.”

The two mugs of tea were hot, but not steaming. Hannah set one down on the coffee table close to the center of the couch and took the other with her to one of the chairs. “Well, it was nice to finally meet you.”

Amir nodded a bit in awkward response and sat down. His svelte frame perched on the edge of the sofa. A bit absent-mindedly, Hannah handed him a throw pillow from behind her. Maybe it was because he looked a bit unmoored or like he needed some objects designed specifically for comfort in his life. Instead of putting it behind him or putting it down, even, Amir hugged the pillow on his lap. 

“It’s okay. Or, it will be,” Hannah fumbled for the right words - the ones that would keep him open and just raw enough to trust her. “I’ve done this, too.” 

“Yeah,” with an unkind chuckled under his breath. His head lolled around as he said, “And you’re out of it, sitting on your side of it all? How often do you stand up to Deputy Director Campbell?”

The truth of that made Hannah sad. Not because she wasn’t standing up for herself when she needed to, she did. Because her life had shrunk so she didn’t have to all that often.

She stood from her chair quietly, “I do all right for myself.” With her mug in one hand, Hannah walked into the small kitchen. 

The incivility of the entire evening, not just that last remark, seemed to catch up with Amir. “You do! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t -” Standing next to the couch, he was rubbing his face when she returned. 

Laughter was not what he expected to hear interrupting his overdue attempt at an apology. “Sorry, sorry. That’s rude,” she got out as she approached him. “Yeah, I was rude. And in your home, when you didn’t have to let me…” His voice trailed off a bit as her hand wrapped around his elbow. “Not you - me. Laughing at you. You were, too, but that’s okay.” She waved that off so much more easily than he could, even after their exchange earlier today. “Now you’re really here.” She found his dark eyes with her own and let her double-meaning cross the air between them. He thought he felt the tingle of something else, as well, and then Hannah was moving deeper into her apartment. The folding door in the hallway creaked a bit as she fished out fresh sheets.

“You should stay here, on the couch tonight. Look like you could use some real rest.” The refusal that could either be polite or rudely take him away from being here was caught on his face. “That’s kind…”

“It is. And it isn’t. You’re one of my guys, Amir. Believe me when I say I know how draining it is to work through this when you’re stateside. You shouldn’t be alone tonight when you don’t have to be.” He stood there for a few moments, watching Hannah in her yoga pants and soft cotton sleep shirt. She made it all sound so inevitable. 

The sheet had been unfolded until it was only doubled was spread out over the couch. Hannah tucked the bottom layer between the cushion and the arm on her end. Might as well give in, Amir thought, and he began tucking in the other end. It was easier to continue as she left again, past the closet to her own room. “I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything.” 

_Some of that formal politeness was his own,_ Hannah knew. She hadn’t decided whether she liked it or not. Either way, it was going to make her job more difficult.

Amir watched for her return. The pillow in her arms when she returned was going to smell like her. “You’re not.” She laid it at the end of the couch away from the door. “That would only happen if you were kicking me out of my bed, which you are not. Or if you were keeping me up. Do you snore? I’ve heard Joseph snores.” There was intel buried in that statement: her lack of first hand knowledge. It was possible it meant nothing, just a joke to lighten the mood. He wasn’t sure which he needed more, so he just stood there at the other end of the couch. 

Stayed still even as she moved closer, wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Pulled him close and held him there a minute. She wasn’t as soft as he might have expected and she stiffened when his arms circled her shoulders, so quickly he almost doubted it was meaningful. This gift was too much, though; he wouldn’t press for more of her.

Hannah held him closer, longer than was polite by his rules, she was sure. She wanted to say, _treat it like your own home,_ but she wasn’t sure he would know what to make of that. The memories of what that felt like were too fresh for her, too. “Just try to be yourself here, alright? If you can?”

It took some work, making himself stay present all the way to the surface. But he meant it when he said, “Thank you.”


	2. Becoming Visible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah tried not to think about how polite he was, whether she could find the line where that ended. She told herself she didn’t get to push him for her own pleasure. Just to help him get it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was never intended to have a follow-up...this is just how things go sometimes.

Hannah woke the way she always did: with an immediate sense of her location and an odd, detached awareness of her safety. This morning, that was quickly followed by the memory of her guest. Briefly, she considered showering or at least brushing her teeth before heading out to the living room. If she wanted him to let himself be seen, though, she might need to lead by example.

So she threw her hair in a messy ponytail and made enough noise as she made her way out of her room to make sure she wouldn’t startle him with her arrival. 

Amir was sitting on the couch, the sheet folded neatly at the other end with her pillow on top of it. Hannah paused where the hall met the living room and observed. With his head tilted down and his body straight, yet relaxed, Amir appeared much younger than he had last night. “Fajr with dawn?” she asked.

The eyes that looked up at her were curious, fervent, as he nodded. “Hope I didn’t wake you? I still keep faith.”

“Good.” Her voice was steady enough not to betray her own religious views, though she hoped Amir knew she appreciated whatever gave him strength. Just to make sure, she added more warmth to her tone. “And good morning.”

Moving into the small kitchen, Hannah took a mug down from a cupboard and called into the other room. “Tea? Or I can make more coffee?” The setting for her automatic morning brew yielded just enough to power her up and grab her fill for the road.

“Tea would be wonderful.”

A few minutes later, the kettle had whistled and the tea was steeped. “Milk? Sugar?” 

“Neither. Thank you.” She brought the mugs into the room and Amir couldn’t help but recall the same move last night. This was twice in only a few hours she had served him something warm in her living room. He felt awkward at the intrusion and grateful at the same time; he was sure he was showing one more than the other. “Will you sit with me and drink?”

Her phone indicated she had an hour before she had to leave for the office. Hannah sat down on the couch next to Amir, close, but just out of reach. Despite the steam, he took a sip. 

“I’m never sure how to do this.”

She was certain he didn’t mean how to avoid burning his tongue, or even how to have a morning in a woman’s apartment. “I’m pretty sure that’s not true. You’re a quick thing, al Raisani. Bet you’re pretty decisive when you’re on top of your game.”

He grinned at that. It was true, and he didn’t mind that she knew it.

Hannah took a long sip of her coffee and moved the morning along. She still had to put herself together. “Are you headed in, as well? I could give you a ride?”

“Not until the afternoon. I’m meeting Preach and his wife for brunch first.”

Hannah made a small, pleasant noise; she imagined his wife was a delightful mix of joyful no nonsense charm. “Well, then - I can drop you off at the Metro, at least.” She pushed herself up and headed into the bedroom to get ready. Amir took a centering breath once she was out of sight and replied. “I’d appreciate the ride, thank you.” 

While in the shower, Hannah tried not to think about how polite he was, whether she could find the line where that ended. She told herself she didn’t get to push him for her own pleasure. Just to help him get it together.

Moving around the living room, Hannah gathered her bag, her keys. What else did she need today? Her coffee.

As they headed out, Hannah tried to assert a sense of resolution. “I’m glad you came here last night - and you’re always welcome to come back.” She waited until he looked up; it was okay if it took a minute. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?” She delivered the warning with a smirk and a shoulder bump, then led them out the door. 

><><

By mid-morning, Hannah was immersed in scanning debriefing transcripts for connections to new intel. If she was surprised when the Deputy Director stopped by her desk with a new task, she didn’t let it show. “I’d like you to continue with al Raisani this afternoon.” 

Hannah knew she could keep the office separate from what happened at her apartment. Not every space was a safe haven, even among friends. Some part of her even craved this light taste of covert action, like flexing a muscle too long unused. She willed herself not to wonder whether she would be given the opportunity to figure out how Amir made sense of the compartmentalization necessary in their jobs.

“This time,” Deputy Director Campbell continued. “I’d like you to go over these mission details.” She handed Hannah a manila folder, which she immediately opened to scan. Three missions, specific interactions with Dalton outlined, for the most part.

“Yes, ma’am. Just confirmation?” Hannah looked up. She hated that mischievous look on Patricia’s face when it was aimed in her direction. And maybe admired it, reluctantly.

“That’s the primary objective. I trust you to get the job done.” 

The job. As in, all of its objectives. Hannah allowed herself a single moment to finish shifting gears and stood to join him.

><><

Hannah entered the room this time in her heels, makeup subtle, attitude appropriately cool. She didn’t think Amir was surprised to see her. Maybe after their initial meeting yesterday, he had assumed he could expect more of the same. In one elongated moment, she saw him pull forward the full weight of himself, acknowledging his commitment to work on being fully present with her, before he tucked back into the highly trained spy he was.

“Good afternoon, Agent al Raisani. I’d like to take some time to go over a few missions, work on establishing the chain of events.”

Somewhat cautiously, he nodded his compliance.

“Let’s start in Spain with the Russian spy whose daughter negotiated for defection.”

“By ‘negotiated,’ do you mean slept with Sargeant McGuire?”

Oh, he was going to be difficult, was he? Hannah pretended to consider the woman's actions briefly. “Pretty effective negotiation tactic in the end, wasn’t it?”

Maybe he had listened when she pressed for him to engage more, challenge when he knew something to be truer than the shitstorm around him. Because that glare? Was positively deadly.

They continued like that while going over who said what, the order of interactions, the implications behind various combinations of words for the next four hours. At one point while giving al Raisani a break, Patricia gave her a nod from in front of the large screen. No doubt they were learning all sorts of new things as Hannah sparred with their new intelligence officer. 

><><

The debriefings continued over the next week, with Hannah stepping in and out of Amir’s, as well as leading two with Dalton. Both times involved testing new connections and hypotheses as she combed the team’s experiences against hard intel in the region. She found the speed with which Dalton caught on to her patterns and his willingness to consider new leaps stimulating. Working through her analyses with him was different than the strict evidence threshold and endless fact-checking required by the rest of her team. The banter she often witnessed while assisting him in the field was almost entirely absent, though his tone was amiable enough. She thought perhaps he was enjoying these weeks in DC. 

She toyed with the idea of making a few inquiries to find out if that was typical, check out her hunch, but decided she might like to become friends with him instead.

><><

It wasn’t long before Amir took her up on the offer to come back to her apartment, this time texting to ask if he could. _Have any plans tonight? Want company_ ...Hannah wasn’t sure if that was a typo or a plea or some kind of Freudian slip in between the two. She worded her response accordingly. _Company would be lovely, especially if we can lounge around. Home by 7. Bring pjs this time._

The first thing she did when she opened the door was notice the lack of a bag. When she pretended to bar entry in an exaggerated move, he relented, “I’m wearing them, okay!” She looked him over; he was indeed wearing sweatpants and a tee. Appropriate loungewear, she decided, and let him in. 

“I can’t believe you were going to kick me out if I didn’t follow orders.”

Hmm. That wasn’t residual resentment from this afternoon at all. 

“You’re always welcome here. I meant that. Fair warning, though, I am likely to continue teasing you.” She rubbed his arm in consolation as she passed deeper into the apartment. 

“Have you eaten? I ordered in,” she pointed a fork at the cartons spread out over the coffee table. 

“What did you get?” 

“Uhh, everything…” She watched a question rise across him and she was pretty sure it had something to do with proper protocol. “Nope - do not ask, whatever that is! Grab a fork,” she gesticulated to the kitchen. Forcing him to get familiar with her cabinets and drawers and hidden kitchen bits might help jolt him back into the rules of the game in this space here with her. 

Amir did as he was told and came back with a fork and a short stack of napkins. Hannah conceded that addition. (It was actually pretty thoughtful). As he took stock of the contents of their dinner options, she grabbed the remote and queued up her subscriptions. “How do you feel about true crime?”

Without looking up from his cataloguing of the food, he concluded, “It’s a travesty.”

Which made Hannah laugh out loud. They were going to be just fine.

><><

The tv was an excuse, a sort of connective tissue in the narrative of their evening together. Last time, Amir was in a fair amount of existential distress; without such a calamity, a lighthearted comedy provided sufficient cover for them to explore each other at an unhurried pace.

“Why do you think Pam lets herself be so - used?” His disdain came through; Amir was not yet on board with the glorious romantic tension on screen.

“Hell if I know. Maybe she thinks no one will take her seriously.” Amir absolutely did not huff as he wedged a pillow into the inches between them.

And:

“How do you not know about racial diversity seminars!?”

“Boarding school! We didn’t have…” and Hannah whacked him with a pillow with every ounce of the ghost of poverty still with her. 

And once:

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop myself - I know the sessions are recorded. I had to ask.”

Amir looked over the top of the pillow where Hannah’s head was now reclining. “You getting intrigued over there, Ms. Rivera?” 

She leaned up and back. “Yes.” Then back to the screen. “And you should indulge my curiosity. Always.”

He knew he was hooked, he couldn’t begrudge her the same. 

What the hell was he doing here?

><><

It was late when they called it quits. Unlike last time, when Hannah had known she couldn’t send him away, Amir seemed calm. More present. It was what she wanted; it was throwing her off. “You staying over?”

He stood up slowly. “Is that still alright?” Tried not to ask for more than was on offer. She cocked her head and he had the distinct feeling of being read for ulterior motives by Agent Hannah Rivera. “Of course you can. Told you - always welcome here.”

“I’ll grab the sheets from the closet then,” was his tentative rejoinder. He looked up when she stayed silent, checking to make sure he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries. But Hannah was just shuttling leftovers to the fridge. When she finished, he was feeling brave enough to ask, “Can I have that same pillow?”

She departed for her room without saying a thing. The flutter in her chest wasn’t supposed to be there.

They settled him in and then she settled herself in and then they both lay working at not thinking for far too long.

><><

Dinner with the team their final night of debriefing was a tradition; apparently Hannah was now part of the team. The Deputy Director joined them and Hannah quickly noted her maternal relationship with Dalton. The other analysts had hinted at it, but Hannah had never had the chance to observe their dynamic directly. Noah was his usual dorky self, which Hannah had stopped believing was some kind of cover. Never would she have imagined a top CIA recruit could be so well-suited for life as an analyst. The thought gave her hope, even as she continued counting the ways in which they were vastly different people.

At one point, Joseph called over their server and began a honeyed pitch that managed to sound both utterly sincere and clearly outrageous. His shenanigans calmed a worry she hadn’t known she had: he really was just that flirtatious with everyone. After the pretty young thing left, Jaz was exuberant in her teasing and Hannah found herself joining in, much to Jaz’s glee. As the good-natured ribbing died down, Hannah caught Dalton’s amused look in her direction. He had caught her relief, no doubt. Not one to be joshed without rebuttal, Hannah merely raised an eyebrow in return and glanced subtly at the woman sharing her torture of McGuire. When she looked back, Dalton tipped his head minutely, a silent touche. 

By the end of the evening, she was tired in body and uplifted in every other way. It had been too long since she felt the effects of easy camaraderie. Which was why she pulled Amir aside as folks started making their exits. “Come over for a bit?”

There was just the slightest shift as she watched Amir realize he could be even more lighthearted if he agreed. “I would like that.”

Only Dalton saw them leave together and he was keeping his damn mouth shut.

><><

He ambled into her living room behind her, took his bearings while she poured herself a glass of water. “How come every time I’m here, I don’t know quite what I’m doing?” When he turned back towards the kitchen, hoping the sight of her would help remind him that was allowed, she was behind him. Her proximity startled him, he was sure she saw it; that also meant she saw the satisfaction cross his face just because she was near. And then he knew she did not mind either of those involuntary responses because she kept coming until she kissed him. Not tentatively, yet softly, quickly. Eyes wider than the usual assessing squint she wore in debriefings or the careful way she held her ease around him when he visited. That softness she cultivated when he was inside her home.

He wanted to prolong the contact, open his mouth to hers. Amir was entirely sure that was a bad idea. He did it anyway. 

Hannah wasn’t sure how he would respond, she had just trusted her gut. He kissed her and this time it was like swallowing fire. This was the Amir she knew was buried inside, hiding behind his “please, ma’am’s” and glib adherence to protocol. His mouth moving on hers as he pressed forward, hands coming up into her hair. They moved together until the full length of his lean body held hers up against his own. God, that was hot. 

Eventually they needed air and he stepped back further than she wanted. “Hannah.” His tone had her backing away, assuming a misstep. “I want you. I do, and I’m not...allowed. To have you.” Why wouldn’t he look at here while he laid claim to whatever this was?

“There is no one in the chain of command who would object. It’s okay.” She wasn’t trying to talk him out of his defense - she was calling him out for not owning the truth while letting him off the hook. At least she was still standing here, she hadn’t left. Or asked him to leave. He could work with that, maybe. 

“It’s not ‘okay,’ it’s - complicated. I try to keep faith.” He could see from the incredulity simmering under the challenge on her face that she was having difficulty believing religious tenets as the source of his distancing. He needed to draw the connection for her. “I don’t want to be casual with you.” Letting the depth of his attraction to her surface was too easy. 

Hannah moved closer, chasing the change in his expression. As much as she suspected he liked her forthright nature, she decided to play it down with some light teasing this time. “Kissing’s too casual?” He closed his eyes against how willing her body was, so close to his own. Unable to deny her again in words, he shook his head slowly. She knew how to play him like this, where to lead them next.

Warm fingers found his hand and traced along the seams between his fingers. “What about holding hands? Think we could hold hands a bit?” The edge of provocation was gone from her voice. Now she sounded serious and yearning. Amir opened his eyes as her fingers traced over his again. “Yes,” came bleeding through every bend in his body as he let her thread her fingers in his. 

“We can hold hands.” He turned more fully towards her again. Caught her other hand in his and played with her palm. “If you want.”

“Yeah. I want.”

They stood there, holding hands and letting their nerves convey how serious this touch could be. Breathing together for long moments, Hannah felt every stroke of his fingertips on hers. Sensation narrowed to the rasp of his touch between her fingers and on the thin skin at her wrists.

Amir was in awe of this woman, and more than a little turned on. He was having difficulty believing how well she has read him every step of this evening; he is thoroughly grateful for the way she kept surprising him deeper into this connection. Maybe he hasn’t told her that often enough, but it remains the truest thing about him when they are together. Amir lets that sit in his belly where hers was pressed a moment ago until he needs to move back and start settling himself for prayer. 

Hannah feels twin thumbs rub over her knuckles as Amir shifts to bring his mouth to her ear. “I need to say evening prayer. Then we both should get some rest.”

Without moving her head, she asked, “Are you staying here tonight?”

Amir pulled back just enough to see her face clearly. “I don’t know if I should. What do you think?” One look and she knew he was really asking.

Hannah untangled their hands and put both of hers in the center of his chest. “I think you are a good man either way.”

That bashful glance to the side would always get to her. It was clearly with reluctance that he stepped back, though she thought he seemed more confident in the way he held himself. “I think I’m going to go. I’ll sleep at the hotel tonight.” Hannah stayed where she was against the wall leading into the hallway. When he looked to her for confirmation of his plan, she nodded with an encouraging smile. Only then did he continue. “I’d like to see you later this week, though. For dinner?” 

Oh! A courtship. The smile turned wicked at the edges. “Yes. I would love that.” 

“Okay then. I’ll call you.” That confidence was really fucking sexy. She was so glad to feel it between them. Maybe it would stick around.


	3. Being & Becoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cleaning up my hard drive and realized I had enough here to share...

Amir had told himself he got to kiss her at the end of the evening. The thought came to mind as he was walking through humid night air with the glow from patio lights. Hannah was there, standing outside the restaurant in a stunning red dress. Lace painted all the way up her neck and so short her legs were an inevitable distraction. The end of the evening seemed far away as he kissed her cheek in greeting. “Dazzling.”

Again, he reminded himself while sitting at their table bursting with the pleasure of making her laugh full and bright. And when his eyes traced the shape of her mouth anticipating her glass. She caught him and hummed into her wine, he swore she did. This was a date and he got to walk her to her door, tell her how lovely she was, how utterly enchanted he was. And then he got to kiss her goodnight. Those were the accepted terms of engagement.

They were walking back to her apartment, had just turned down the side street that led to her building, when that plan started slowly to derail. “Are you staying over?” At his surprised look, Hannah clarified. “I know you went back to your hotel last time. Because,” she may have floundered a bit for the sentiment before going full throttle. “We’re not casual.” This was a new Hannah. Just a bit unsteady. She was so adorable like this he almost forgot to concentrate on the implications of her words as she continued. “We’re not. You can stay over and -” She looped her arm through his, made sure to watch his face, “we’re still not.” 

Amir started counting by prime numbers. The team used it as a mental distraction in the wake of bad dreams; maybe it could provide the same calm with the promise of good ones? “I get to kiss you tonight.”

“Yes.” Her voice was all velvet and self assurance. “Yes, you do.” Smug was less adorable on her. Just a smidge. 

“I get to _kiss_ you. Walk you to your door, say ‘I had a lovely evening.’”

“You did?”

“Tell you I want to take you out again.”

Hannah was nodding, playing along. They still had an entire two blocks to go.

“And then I finally get to kiss you.”

“You’ve been thinking about that, hunh?” She was teasing him. He knew that. Yet the agreement was that he could be himself with her. So the quiet “Yes” of his response was entirely within bounds. Which brought them to her building.

“Come on,” she tried to tug him inside. For a wiry guy, he could be pretty damn immovable. “At least walk me up to my door,” she tried to reason. The logic of persuasion seemed a better approach. Maybe if Hannah could get him upstairs, they could continue to talk this out, get to the root of their shared desire for more intimacy. Figure out why it looked so different between the two of them.

Amir took her hands in his. Despite the jolt of memory (and touch), he persisted. “What do you want?”

There were a variety of options here. Hannah could tell Amir she wanted another night like their first - well, their second - with easy comfort on the couch and conversation that felt familiar, yet adventurous. She could tell him she wanted more of that. She could say she wanted him to give her that goodnight kiss. 

“You, Amir,” She emphasized with gentle, closed fists inside his open jacket. “I don’t know how else we do that. Another date?” Her scrunchy face clearly communicated how insufficient that felt. “I want to figure out what it means for you to be here, in DC, with me, with - I want dinner, yes, the banter and the laughing, watching you watch me, knowing - I want to appraise you. ” His hand in her hair wasn’t warning enough. His mouth stole the end of her wanting list, along with a moan. 

It was a pretty good kiss. 

><><

“So, what - I’m supposed to tell Dalton when he’s missing an opportunity, have to be more ‘myself” and ‘don’t hold back’ when I’m here,” he emphasized with lean hands their combined presence in the sanctuary of her living room. “And you...don’t?”

She was mad because he was right, because this was harder than when she pressed him to be _here._ And she didn’t want to be mad or difficult or anything less than fully fucking fierce. 

But she wasn’t sure she could do this yet. 

Amir seemed to sense that undercurrent as they squared off. He didn’t soften or renege the challenge he was issuing. His hands came down off of his hips, though, and he extended a new bridge between them. 

“Just - what is it, Hannah? You can tell me.” He sighed. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t figure out what happens next.”

She pulled the opened collar of her dress to the side, closed her eyes and elongated her neck. 

“The scars?”

Amir sounded genuinely baffled; Hannah wasn’t sure if the lack of empathy that involved was infuriating or some odd sort of fucking relief. And in the back of her mind, she wondered: How had he known to pluralize?

The panic buried in her bones made his voice sound strangely disconnected as he continued. “You startled. That first night, you hugged me and you startled.” Amir was practically talking to himself. “I figured - you wouldn’t mind that I wasn’t looking for just a quick fuck.” The disdain with that last bit was what brought her focus back. It wasn’t just the polite gloss of good manners with a girl. He really meant that. 

Amir unbuttoned his dress shirt, pulled the tails from his pants and unbuttoned the sleeves. Let it fall off his shoulders to the floor. Then he lifted the cotton undershirt and pulled it over his head. Discarded it without looking. 

He began next to his belly button. “This one’s appendicitis. Obviously. I was seven and I’m lucky the cook recognized the nausea and stomach ache.” His hand moved to a jagged line. “Also surgery.” That was one of his least favorites: it proved the lengths to which he would go to hide himself and it was permanently etched into his body. “Had an identifying mark removed before going undercover.” That memory made Amir want to turn his head, close his eyes, but he kept them on Hannah. She wanted him _here?_ Well that meant making all these dangerous parallels between them clear.

Next he thumbed a puckered hole in the inside of his upper right arm. “Through and through. Which was good because ISIS isn’t big on things like science and hospitals. This one was a stabbing to make sure someone who wanted to kill traitors didn’t figure me out. You know, it’s one knife or another sometimes. And this one - this one saved me, too. It didn’t feel like it at the time, of course.” The casual flecks in his voice when he talked about how disposable his life was - Hannah had to look away. She felt the cowardness of it, worked up her composure to sufficient power, and returned to him. But still. She would always know she’d had to look away, even just for those short moments. 

“What else, Hannah? What else do you want to see?”

She couldn’t speak.

His hands were in her hair again, cradling the back of her skull. When he brought his other to her hip, he made sure his fingers splayed downwards as he avoided her back. That alone almost made her lose it.

She was glad he didn’t try to kiss her. If he had kissed her before pressing for an answer, she would have labeled it manipulation. But if he had kissed her after getting her to talk, it would have been a reward, perhaps to condition compliance in future. That would have felt infinitely worse. Instead, he stood there, close to her. Brought his forehead to hers and again, he asked, “What. Do you want?”

“You.” Her voice was close to steady as she exhaled. “Scars and all.” Was it close enough, she wondered?

“Hmm. Me, too.”

><><

He agreed to stay that night, without complicating things any further. “Just to sleep, I think.”

“You think?” That retort came with a loopy grin. Weights, shoulders, and all that.

Amir caught her around her waist. “Yes. I think.” Kissed her so quick and let her go and headed down the hall towards her room before she could retaliate. Prolong the moment. She was chasing after him when he paused at the door to her room. “Might as well,” she teased from behind, giving his shoulder a slight nudge. 

Amir took a few slow steps forward, his casual tone betrayed by the cautious glide of his body. She was starting to learn how carefully he held himself when he was pressing against the limits of socially acceptable behaviors. “Is it strange for me to be resisting the urge to analyze every item you have chosen for your bedroom?”

Nope. That was equal parts hot and intriguing. She probably wasn’t supposed to admit that, was she? Instead of answering, she motioned toward the bed and shared, “I sleep on the outside. Not negotiable.” Amir met her eyes a moment before crawling in first.

They did not sleep all cuddled together in a tangle of limbs and torsos that was somehow supposed to be comfortable. His arms were not around her when she woke. Hannah lay on her side facing the early light of the window. Her bed partner lay still on his back, his arms folded neatly across his middle. The soldier pose. How appropriate.

She wasn’t sure if the shifting sheets and comforter woke he when she sat, whether the rising dip in the mattress alerted him or if he heard her ankles creak as she crossed her room. Perhaps he was giving her this time; if so, it was rather thoughtful of him. She curled her legs under her on the chair in the corner.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bit from my hard drive that might as well be yours.

“Agent al-Raisani?” A career airman approached with a clipboard. 

Amir almost didn’t answer. “Yes.” 

“You’re with me. Washington wants you debriefed in person.”

“Okay. Where?”

“The DIA. DC.” The older captain was dealing with several emotional responses at once: impatience, pity, a thwarted appreciation for efficiency in communication. Amir wanted to see none of it. He closed his eyes and followed.

It had been a long month. Being undercover might not have been as deep as he had fallen before, but there was no such thing as light terrorism. A few weeks was both sufficient and never enough. 

His duty was over for now; its future sustained indefinitely. Word that his alias was alive and quietly amassing new resources for the will of Allah was already spreading, thanks to the few he allowed to escape with their voices intact. All he wanted was to go back to being Agent al-Raisani. The flight ahead was going to be longer than he had planned.

><><

It was late again when they arrived at headquarters. There was someone waiting to escort him when Amir passed through security. He walked down artificially lit hallways alternating dirty white and dark grey thinking how much he didn’t want to see Hannah like this.

><><

He knew what they would ask and what they wanted to know. It was getting there the way they wanted that was going to drag this out. 

Maybe he could get there and get out. No need for any fuss.

><><

Deputy Director Campbell stopped them as they emerged from the labyrinth of halls. “I heard you came through for us again. Let’s see if we can’t get you cleared to return to Dalton.” Her voice lit something inside him, some embodied memory of what it was like to have his team around him, Hannah’s voice over comms, and only his own name to answer to. He didn’t want to remember other times we felt like he was home. _Listen to the words, not the voice._

><><

There was an issue with the lock. Amir held back the wave of frustrated anger and stood quietly against the wall opposite the door. That’s when he saw the dark hair, the slim pants. Hannah turned in profile and slipped away.

><><

He knew what that was. Almost a decade in espionage, so Amir wasn’t exactly new to the persuasion of suggestion. Easy enough for the Deputy Director to send her on an errand, parade her past his line of sight. Hell, Hannah might have done it on her own, if she thought it would make him more likely to cooperate during the hellish series of conversations about to begin. The more honesty in early rounds, the more quickly they could peel back the layers between Hamid’s experiences and Amir’s intentions. 

Honesty also meant surfacing faster, though, and Amir wasn’t so sure that was the best way forward. 

><><

Patricia handles the debriefing, to Amir’s surprise. It is unlike anything he has ever experienced. Ten minutes in, he is confused. An hour later, he is suffused with gratitude for this person he used to think of as a job title and a notch on the hierarchy above him. By midnight, he has a burning need to come up for air and a thorough, newfound appreciation for Dalton’s ability to manage the points between their team and Campbell.

><><

Hannah didn’t know Amir had been cleared to enter the hive. Yet there he was, off to the side. And clearly he was here with a purpose. 

“Ms. Rivera. A word?” 

A quick flick confirmed Noah was on the alert. Bless him. Hannah nodded down the hall, outside her colleague’s periphery. 

Hannah did not know this man in front of her; he was like one of those dying stars, collapsing in and in to keep from burning out. 

“I’m on mandatory leave. Deputy Director Campbell would prefer I spend it in the US. Three weeks.”

It was practically a monologue. “Oh.” She was taken aback, more by the delivery than any lack of question or plan or sense he knew what he was after. Amir saw the momentary widening of muscles in her cheeks, surrounding her eyes. 

He turned and walked down the hall towards the exit without another word. Hannah had no idea what to make of that. She was too dignified to chase him down, obviously, but she also couldn’t decide if she should text him, call his cell - old or with the team? What was she supposed to do with the information he was on leave if he wasn’t going to spend even a few minutes of it with her?

Amir wasn’t exactly hanging around the DIA to figure out exactly where that particular line was drawn; maybe it was better they did not know.

><><

Hannah caught herself scanning the parking garage, checking crowds along the streets and, as she approached her assigned parking spot at home, the front entry to her building. There was little chance he was lingering somewhere along her familiar lines, she knew. It hadn’t been that long since she had juggled this particular in-between herself. 

><><

Coming in the door, Hannah went over her options. Dinner. Longest fucking bath ever. Except there wouldn’t be much settling in tonight. Maybe she would head down to the gym, see when the next spin class was beginning. 

Keys went in the dish on the small table at the door, bag tucked underneath it, phone pulled out. Hannah was connecting it to the charger when she saw it: a message from an unknown number. 

_I should have known better than to approach you like that at work. Especially with Hamid so near. I apologize._

She rolled her eyes. Of course the idiot didn’t ask for anything, gave no indication where he was headed or whether he planned to see her. Three weeks. Trying to keep things simple and direct, she typed back, _Come in. Now please._

Forty seven minutes later, Amir was at her apartment. “By ‘in,’ you meant here, right? Because I can head over to the DIA…” The alternative was left unspoken.

Hannah opened the door wider, “Would you get in here?”

She locked the door behind them and Amir felt it like the air in her apartment had been sealed away. What used to feel like a safe cocoon felt small and somehow unknown. Like Hamid could feel the threat to his existence with the closing of the door. Fuck he wanted it to feel the same here, to be the place where he didn’t have to work so hard at separating himself from the thousand tiny indecisions of filtering his alias out of his life. He wanted Hannah to himself.

The tension coiled in Amir’s hips, in his shoulders; there was a weariness underneath it that Hannah didn’t like to see. She knew how it crept up, built over hours and days of subverting one’s self. It was exhausting.

Moving into the apartment, she thought she might start with hot tea. That was becoming a bit of a ritual for the two of them in moments like this one. She liked that; having a thing with Amir. Something that was theirs. As she passed, she reached out a hand to rub over Amir’s elbow; another familiar gesture as she soothed without lingering. He evaded the touch not with a jerk, but with the force of his entire body as he drew away.

Oh. She didn’t usually read him wrong. Didn’t usually read most people wrong, but then again, she hadn’t ever met this hybrid creature quite, had she? So. She would have to learn him.

Amir hadn’t meant to reject Hannah. That was just instinct, just beyond his reach. He wanted her hand on him, wanted her fingers rubbing out a firm notice of the inevitability of his joining her here. When she stepped back, he watched her berate herself silently. Hannah knew what it was to be coming back to oneself after so long buried. She would not touch him again tonight. 

That wasn’t what he wanted. He moved forward into her space, slipped his arm around her back, and pulled her close. This kiss was like another time in her living room, all heat and pounding blood and the press of his belly against hers. He wanted her to remember that she knew him, she did. 

He also just wanted her. Surely she knew that, as well. She was kissing him back, at least, letting his tongue sweep against hers and pushing back where he met her. Her lips wouldn’t move so hard against his if she didn’t want him, too, would it? Her hands wouldn’t hold his face against hers?

Hannah was the one to raise her mouth first. “Hey, there.” 

“Hi. Sorry - about earlier.” Bringing the personal into work, leaving her standing there, pulling away after invading her home. All of it. “I’m a bit strung out, I’m not - I’m not entirely myself tonight.” He was still grasping her low around the waist. 

“Yeah. It happens.”

Amir blew out a long breath. He didn’t know what to ask for.

“I was surprised you just...left.” There was no blame, mostly conjecture and sadness and careful, careful prompting in her voice and her face. Amir loosed his arms, but she stepped forward too quickly for him to really retreat. 

“You’re still coming back. I know.” That was wonder in her fingers, on his biceps, the side of his neck. The touch felt like a different kind of heat and this time he turned as he crossed the room. Perhaps a glass of water would be a useful distraction. Permissible. Most likely transparent, but hell if he cared.

“How long have you been awake?”

He chuckled without humor. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not sleeping.” She hadn’t asked if that’s what he wanted to do. Her sigh still sounded somehow defeated, though.

“You don’t have to, not yet. How about we stay in, though?”

“Yeah. I could do that.”

“Okay, then.” Despite her firm belief that Amir needed sleep to give his subconscious a restful place to work, Hannah agreed to move things into the living room. She moved a pillow against the close arm of the couch and grabbed the remote. “Should we continue with the Office?” she threw out to Amir. No new territory tonight; nothing that required either too many brain cells or, equally terrifying, not enough.

He was loitering in that ambiguous space between the breakfast bar and the living room, pretending he wasn’t cataloging her moves. The question required that he abandon that pretense and acknowledge the connecting threads between them. Amir nodded loosely.

Queueing up the episode where they last left off, Hannah got comfortable. Amir chose the armchair that put his back at the door and allowed him to sit only parallel to Hannah’s view. Rather than make the invitation to join her any clearer, she settled in and pressed play. This was going to be a long night.

><><

It was 2 am when Amir got up from the chair. Remote in hand, Hannah didn’t pause the tv, just waited to see what he would do. She sat up when he moved towards the door, but laid back against the pillow when she realized he was going through the bag he brought with him. Without a word, he went to the bathroom and emerged in a pair of sweatpants and a tee too big for his small frame. 

Instead of returning to the chair, he slipped around the coffee table and sat down on the end of the couch. Hannah scrunched up her legs to make room.

><><

An episode later, she relaxed her legs enough to press her soles against his leg. He flinched, so she pulled them back. Still, he didn’t move off the couch; instead, his legs tucked up and he burrowed sideways into the back cushions.

><><

It wasn’t a particular episode that broke him. Hannah wasn’t sure why he did it. Without looking at her, Amir slid over, leaning back against Hannah. She made room for him, snug between her legs. 

“I want this to be - that place. Where I am only me.”

Her left arm threaded between him and the couch. She wanted to hold him tight, secure him against her, but she had seen what reaction even casual touches caused more than once tonight. “Alright.”

“It smells like you here.”

“Hmm.” She couldn’t help it; she kissed him against his left temple at that strange, intimate pronouncement. 

“I - I’m trying. It’s like I don’t want to let it go, not at first.” 

Her heart would be breaking if she weren’t so tired, she was almost numb. Without really thinking, her right hand came up and, before she knew it, her fingers were threading through his curls. 

“Mmm!”

She couldn’t tell if that was a good noise or a bad one. Maybe she needed more data, so she did it again. This time he flinched.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s - well, it’s hard to explain.”

She ran her hand through his hair again, this time scraping her fingernails against his scalp. 

“It’s like, I can pretend pretty hard, will a lot into the background, make it unimportant, see it through a different set of eyes. But not this. Not touch.”

Hannah kept carding his hair and brought her lips back to his temple. “Do you want to? Pretend that it isn’t?”

“No,” he sounded so plaintive. 

><><

Not long after, Hannah gives up the fight to stay awake. 

“I’m going to bed; you coming?”

It was an open invitation she knew he wouldn’t take. “No. The couch is fine.”

Hannah didn’t fight it. As long as he was here; as long as he was safe.

><><

Hannah’s phone held a message not unrelated to the last one it conveyed. 

_You’re on official handler duty today. Make sure he figures out leave._

Patricia could be a pain in the ass, but she knew a stabilizing connection when she saw one. Hannah was still working out all the ways to shore up her own skills in that area; she tried not to begrudge her boss while she was being granted the possibility of actual sleep. 

But before that, Hannah crept into the hall to see if Amir had succumbed on the couch. He was looking exactly where she appeared when she reached the end of the hall, sitting there in the half-dark. 

Patricia wouldn’t let him sit there like that. 

“Come on.”

“I’m not going to sleep.”

Hannah had nieces and nephews and a glare passed down from generations of Rivera women. “Well I am. Deputy Director Campbell says I’m officially your handler. Let’s go.”

Amir stood up languidly, but did as he was told. 

“You can lay there and watch me so I can keep an eye on you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hannah crawled back under the covers as Amir tucked himself into a line at the far edge. “That’s more like it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, this was a challenge to myself to work on some character development for someone(s) I think were unfairly underdeveloped on the show. I mean, Amir's supposed to be some badass superspy who fooled true believer terrorists? Really? And while Hannah is notmyfavorite, she seems uniquely positioned to have helped in the Amir's A Real Person, Too Department. You know, had we not been screwed out of a second season. 
> 
> And that is more origin story than anyone needed to know! If you have Thoughts about these two, separately or together, come challenge me to reconsider or grieve alongside me over on tumblr where I am just as gentlesquid_andink as I am here...


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